Keep Calm and Clash On

One luxury of the extra-large corner room is the amount of stuff that can occupy its space in comparison to its cramped, rectangular counterparts. For some, this would mean an extra piece of furniture. For others, perhaps a bulky gaming system. But for me and my roommate Elsa, this boon of surplus space meant we could host our four high school brothers for an entire weekend. Planning and strategizing for the big event began on move-in day, as Elsa and I configured futon and coffee table arrangements and painstakingly threaded string lights around the room’s perimeter. With the gears in full motion, we eventually settled on a date and devised a detailed game-plan.

The late October Friday arrived, and Sam, Joe, Axel, and Eli appeared at our threshold ready for the weekend ahead. For some reason, whenever Elsa and I mention our “little brothers,” we forget that they are, in fact, full-size, male human beings. So when the four of them entered our comfy abode with their bulging duffels, my roommate and I were surprised when our oversized space suddenly felt particularly small and confined.

One rule Elsa and I had established prior to our brothers’ coming was that the Cozy Cottage would be a Clash-free zone. By this, I am referring to the virtual, troop-building game Clash of Clans that constitutes as the most valuable app on our brothers’ iPods. For the quartet of blondies, this game is life. In fact, their Clashing skills determine their validation level among peers in school. So, when Elsa and I decided to put the kibosh on the whole Clan obsession for the weekend, you can bet we were hardly met with enthusiasm. Basically, the pack of toe-heads scoffed at the notion of abandoning the game for a whole 48 hours, and promptly crested the whiteboard on our door with “Keep Calm and Clash On.”

There are some battles just not worth fighting.

Despite our brothers’ unwavering dedication to their troops and insistence on manning their forts and dragons, the weekend turned out to be a glorious, entertainment-filled couple of days. From late-night movies and thrift shopping, to hardcore racquetball tournaments, the fun never stopped.

Though probably the highlight activity for the group of uncannily-similar teens was their many adventures with bottle cap football. Don’t worry if you are unfamiliar with this game…you should be. Our brothers came up with the sport themselves—a hybrid between football, ultimate Frisbee, and whatever amusement a person might have with a bottle cap.

Because none of the above things are in Elsa or my realm of interests, the boys had to resort to the halls of Oak Ridge to find other players. Just like Clash, there was no use in attempting to put a stop to the boys running up and down the guys’ wings, knocking on doors, and inquiring the defenseless passersby all in the pursuit of fellow bottle-cappers.

You may recall from my last post that I mentioned a particular RA infatuation my brothers had. Their bizarre obsession actually developed during this very weekend while the boys were on their hunt. The foursome stumbled across this resident assistant’s door, and—more importantly—an “About Me” bio that seemed to be the answer to all their problems. This “Andy” guy not only played ultimate Frisbee, but he also wanted to meet Jesus, loved the movie Saving Private Ryan, and was interested in basically everything that made a person awesome in the discerning eyes of high school boys.

Pretty much Andy was the coolest guy ever.

And he needed to be a part of the bottle-capping experience.

Therefore, much of the remainder of the afternoon was spent tracking the college sophomore down. The blonde bros even went to extremes that involved finding Andy’s girlfriend’s room and leaving a note on the door requesting the RA to report to room 232 (my room). After several fruitless attempts, however, the impossible mission was aborted.

But even after the boys abandoned any hope of getting their idol to play bottle cap with them, the infatuation continued. Andy was their hero, after all, and—frankly—still is.

The time finally came for the Clashing, bottle-capping, RA-loving foursome to depart. I gave each of my brothers a hug and watched as they hauled their bags out of the Cozy Cottage to join Axel and Eli for the short ride home. Our brothers brought laughter, good times, and maybe a bit of a stench too, but they left behind a weekend full of memories.

I gently closed the door to the Cozy Cottage then.

And I knew it would never be a Clash-free zone.